Trapped Like Rats
by Shaggy the Cat
Summary: When Hashiro Takahashi is unknowingly given a "job" at a medicine testing facility miles away from any sort of civilization, she and Hatsuharu Sohma end up as cellmates in Hell. But when they escape, will they be able to rely on each other for survival? HaruxOC. Rated M for Language, Violence, and Sexual Content. Based on The Plague Dogs by Richard Adams.


Chapter 1

"White walls surround us

No light will touch your face again

Rain taps the window

As we sleep among the dead

Days go on forever

But I have not left your side

We can chase the dark together

If you go, then so will I"

-"Anthem of the Angels"/Breaking Benjamin

* * *

Hashiro sighed, running a hand through her tawny hair, before picking up _Watership Down, _flipping to her bookmarked page and trying to finish the book for the ninth time. Kosuke, her "father", had found her a live-at-work sort of job, and told her she wouldn't be needing her "silly books or anything" there. The way he said it, it sounded as though she'd be leaving and never coming back. If so, he'd be overjoyed. He'd probably celebrate by flopping onto the armchair in front of the television (she swore that armchair had a permanent imprint of his skinny ass on the cushion; when he wasn't torturing her, he was watching TV), putting in only five thousand movies, getting drunk, and falling asleep, which was his normal daily routine anyway. The only things missing were his daily threats of beatings, rape, and all other forms of torture he could think of.

Kosuke had married Hashiro's mother, a beautiful woman named Akira, about two years before their daughter was born. He apparently got it into his head that she'd stolen his place in Akira's heart, and when Hashiro was six years old he'd forced his wife to divorce him. It wasn't until about a year ago that Hashiro realized he'd divorced Akira (who was now living in Germany under a different name) and signed lawsuits against her visiting or even talking about their only child just so he could exact his revenge. The only threat not carried out so far was rape, but she figured that, too, would soon be exacted, unless she committed suicide, ran away, or married at the age of fifteen first.

Even though it sounded a little to good to be true, Hashiro was secretly thrilled at the aspect of an out-of-town , even though she couldn't bring her beloved books or CDs with her. Since Kosuke hogged the only television in the house, she only had the books she'd bought with her own money by working at a fast-food restaurant. It paid crap, but she needed the free food and the daily escape from her abusive father.

* * *

It was near dusk the next day when Hashiro, after several hours and miles of walking, finally approached the plain white building that Kosuke had apparently employed her at. It loomed somewhat ominously before her against the darkening sky. The doors suddenly swung open, revealing white-painted cement walls blocked by a wall of gray. The wall, as it turned out, was actually a well-muscled - _very _well-muscled - man of about seven and a half feet with a square jaw and a dark ginger buzz cut. A scar split his left eyebrow in half. The sight of him alone told her that this man was not one to be messed with.

"Name's Granite," he growled, turning his dark brown gaze down at her. "Are you Takahashi?" She gulped, then nodded. He grunted, then turned and gestured for her to follow him. He led her down a hallway as plain as the other parts of the building she'd seen, then pulled open a heavy iron door and led her down several flights of stairs that followed. At the end of the fifteenth stood another iron door. Granite took the handle, but before opening it he leaned down close to her and growled, "Good luck with this one, girly. Stubborn as a bull, he is." He then forced the door open and shoved her into the room beyond.

Like the rest of the building, the room consisted of white cement walls and linoleum flooring. Other than the two cots that hugged the east and west walls and the black lump that was stretched out on the west cot, the room was empty. There was a grunt, then the black lump on the cot rolled over and sat up. The lump turned out to be a boy about her age with a white mop of hair and brown eyes. He glanced at her, then sighed and rubbed his hands together.

"Okay, first things first: Welcome to Hell, we don't like you either. I'm Hatsuharu Sohma, and I'll be your guide as well as cellmate. And you are?"

"Hashiro Takahashi, and where are we and why are we here?"

"Where we are: I have no clue. Why we're here: This is where our parents dump us when they don't want us or can't stand us any longer. This is a medicine testing facility, mainly for stuff that teenagers use. To be more specific: drugs, alcohol, and birth control. That's why the two of us are in the same cell together."

She didn't realize she'd fainted until she woke up. Hatsuharu was standing over her with a slightly concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, it's shocking, but it's the truth. At least you didn't try to get into my pants right off the bat, like the other four." He shuddered, then walked back to his cot and sat down again. "Okay, I admit, I'm exaggerating when I say _welcome to Hell._ It's really not that bad here once you get used to it. Food's okay, water's hot. The only things I don't like about this place are the beds. Stiff as boards. It gets better depending on behavior, though. If a relationship is formed and keeps progressing, then they make living conditions better. Kind of like rewarding a pet when it does a trick you've been trying to teach it."

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to get used to it, but not long enough to miss the outdoors. We spend our days confined in these cells and if some kind of relationship isn't formed between cellmates, we die of utter boredom."

"I can see where that would suck."

Hatsuharu looked at her for a moment, then a small smirk graced his lips. "You're alright. Tell you what: I'll let you go take a shower and I'll leave you alone until tomorrow morning." "Sounds like a plan to me; I'm beat. By the way, can I just call you Haru?."

There was a chuckle from Hatsuharu. "Go right ahead. I don't mind."

"Great. So I'll be seeing you in the morning?"

"Yup."

* * *

As Haru had said, the water was hot, so she spent quite some time in the shower, letting the water soothe her aching legs and making her even more tired than she already was. When she finally emerged, clothed in thin cotton pajamas the building had provided, her new cellmate had curled up on the cot and had fallen asleep. Maybe he was right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad here once she got used to it. She stared at the empty cot. Would she learn to appreciate the stiffness of it, even look forward to it?

Cautiously, she sat down, then stretched out and cringed. And she thought the bed back at home was bad!

_Home. _Apparently the word would now be associated with a different location. Not that she'd ever thought of the four-roomed house she'd shared with Kosuke as home. Speaking of Kosuke, he was probably celebrating getting rid of his only daughter right now. She sighed - softly, so as to not wake Haru - then rolled onto her side and looked her cellmate over. For the first time, she noticed the roots of his hair were not white, but pitch-black.

Haru didn't seem like a bad person at all, really. Maybe, possibly, she might become friends with him. Maybe even more than friends. Either way, her only choices were to converse willingly or - if she ever got out of here - to die alone and be eaten by sixty-something cats.

Her answer was pretty obvious.


End file.
